View from the floor

Since it was just Rich and myself attending a boxing event in Anaheim at the Honda Center (now one of my favorite venues) the big guy went ahead and got us floor seats for my birthday which was really freakin’ awesome. I had never had floor seats to a fight before (not counting the time Morehouse, Jim and I snuck onto the floor for the main event for a rinky dink boxing card in Rochester featuring Lawrence Clay Bey) and since the main event was the culmination of a three year blood feud it figured to be a pleasant evening.

What was readily apparent early on was that no matter where you are sitting there are boxing hooligans everywhere. This can be a blessing or a curse since you may find yourself near someone who has the same passion for a fighter as you or the guy who feels obligated to scream “Show your tits!” to the ring card girls EVERY TIME they come out. The gentleman behind me had yelled sporadically throughout the evening but came alive during a fight featuring a boxer I like named Antionio “Tony” Demarco and his opponent Almazbek “Kid Diamond” Raiymkulov. Winning this fight would be a huge step forward in Demarco’s career and I was on edge the second the opening bell rang but the guy behind me constantly screaming only added to my stress. However, my annoyance soon turned to amusement as I realized his non stop verbal abuse towards the ring was constructive criticism:

“HE’S DUCKING HIS HEAD, THROW AN UPPERCUT AND NOT THAT PUSSY JAB! SHIT! FUCK!”

Behind the obscenities he had stumbled onto something, Demarco’s jab was badly timed and Kid Diamond was depending on him to miss in order to counter punch him. By round five I had joined my new found friend in trying to scream towards the ring for Demarco to throw more punches and not rest on the jab. While shouting such advice from the nosebleeds would seem idiotic from the floor it seemed like there might be some chance he might hear me (this is really doubtful considering how loud and raucous the Honda crowd was but I can dream).

Anyway, sensing his poor performance Demarco finally strung more than three punches together in the 9^th round and put a serious beating on his misfortunately named opponent. As the round ended and the crowd roared for Demarco’s progress I turned around to face the other hooligan and offered a simple “it only took him ten rounds”. He laughed and nodded “that’s right!” What we failed to realize was how effective the rally had been since Kid Diamond refused to come out for the next round. The crowd went nuts and I was pleased with a b-day KO. I know that our screaming had no effect on the events in the ring but it felt like we did and that was the benefit of the ringside seats above anything else. My other guy managed to lose a helluva brave performance in the main event but I guess that will give me something to look forward to next year.